


My Wretched Symphony

by Cammy



Category: Tales of Symphonia
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Drama, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 21:46:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammy/pseuds/Cammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All he knew was his home, his father, and the team that worked there. However, a group of strangely dressed people come across his path and things drastically change. A horrible truth comes forth and young Nathan will have to decide if the life he's been living is right or not. OC insert; however, not the way one would expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Wretched Symphony

** Disclaimer: ** I don’t own ToS! If I did... Well, I don't so yeah.

This is my first fic here at the archive, please be nice! >.<

Chapter one, begin! 

** ~Twenty Years Ago~ **

A baby's shrill cry split the ears of everyone in the room. The father's lips curled into an annoyed scowl, while the mother's eyes were wide with horror, her entire body shaking with disgust and revulsion.

"Get that thing away from me!" the mother yelled. A mid-wife took the baby and went to wash him. The mother got up and dressed.

"It's going to be very troublesome raising a child in a place like this," the father growled, disgusted.

"But my Lord…" The mid-wife hesitated, gently jostling the baby. "You're the one who wanted this to happen…"

"I know that," he snapped.

She cringed and nodded vigorously. 'Is this truly what you wanted? An heir? You don't seem so thrilled…' But she wouldn't dare say those words.

"You promised you'd release me if I birthed your child," the mother said nervously.

The father sighed. "Yes I did, didn't I…" He sounded thoughtful, and a glimmer of hope gleamed in the woman's tired, worn eyes.

Then a malicious grin crossed his face, and he gazed at the mother. She tensed. "Kill her."

Her eyes snapped wide. "What! NO! That wasn't part of the dea-!" Her terrified shout was quickly cut off as the woman lost her head, and blood splattered on both mid-wife and baby. The blood-covered woman stepped back with wide eyes as the baby erupted in a scream.

The father turned back to the mid-wife, ignoring her terrified look. "I give you permission to raise that … child until he can be useful to the ranch. As soon as he is old enough, let me know." Then he began to leave the room, but stopped at the door, seeming to remember something. He continued out, looking for someone, and settled on a randomly passing person. "You!" he snapped. The boy jumped, and then turned to him.

"Y-yes, my lord?" the boy stammered.

The father just headed back to the room he'd just been in, the boy following nervously. "Go clean that up." He said, gesturing to the body still lying within.

"Y-yes, my lord! The half-elf set to work, a haunted look in his eyes.

The mid-wife, not wanting the infant to have to watch his mother's body be taken away, held him close and tried to calm him as she dashed out of the room.

She rushed into a separate room and finally had the opportunity to get a good look at the child. Had he fallen asleep, or had he fainted? She didn't know. He had fuzzy black hair, and an oval shaped face. She frowned. 'I'll have to see his eyes at a later date.' Sadly, she would never get to see his eyes.

She bit her lip. 'He will be displeased… a child who bears everything his mother has, but nothing of his father. A memory every time he looks at him… Nathan…' She held him close. Her soft green eyes filled with sympathy.

** ~10 Years later~ **

"This is disgraceful! Afraid of blood!" Nathan cringed at his father's snarl. "This is preposterous! How will I ever make good use of him in the ranch?" The man sighed, pressing a finger against his temple. "There are always more I could use-"

"S-sir…" The voice came from a nervous young man behind his father. Nathan looked up at him his eyes clouded with worry, he remembered his name; it was Harlond. His Father’s second in command, as much as his father had respect for the man, he didn’t seem to appreciate being interrupted.

"What?" He growled.

"Y-you could always use him as a technician… he seems very smart at this age. Even for ten, he's very mature, and very knowledgeable. He knows more than some of the others here…" Harlond brought up a hand to brush back the brown locks of hair that were damp, he was anxious. He didn’t like bringing things up that might upset his Lord.

"But of course! He has the best education there is! A very good idea. Nathan, how would you like to make me proud?" He sneered, but scowled when Nathan's eyes lit up. 

"Oh, yes, father! Definitely!" came the happy reply.

'That boy is far too soft hearted.' He thought with a small snarl.

He sat in his room in a corner after his father’s offer. He felt delighted, but at the same time, it didn’t feel right. He jumped a little as the door swung open and hit the wall with a thud, causing the young boy to jump a little. 

“Hey there, Nathan.” He smiled a little but inwardly grimaced. He recognized that fake smile on all the women that cared for him. It said they didn’t want to be there. That he was just a nuisance. 

“Hi, Julie.” He chirped, 

“What do you say we get you some new clothes, huh?” She shifted her weight and placed a hand on her hip. She watched as the boy paused to think.

“The tailor?” He grimaced a little; the tailor always purposely poked him with the needles though... He wasn’t going to say anything.

“Yup, we’re gonna resize those clothes.” She said, taking him by the hand and leading him out. 

Minutes later, he found himself standing on a stool, his arms outstretched as the tailor cut and hemmed seams to make room for the growing boy beneath them. He whimpered in worry when he saw the needle disappear under the clothes and shifted uneasily. 

“Quit moving.” The desian quipped, needle in mouth as he tried to repin some clothes to the boy.

“But... my arms are getting tired!” Nathan whined, feeling the weight in his arms get stronger. 

“Then get poked.” The tailor sighed and continued his job. The little elf suddenly yelped when a needle poked his skin. He jerked and stared at the spot. He felt strangely terrified as he saw the material strain a little with red. 

“There, see what you did?” The half-elf sneered. Nathan swallowed thickly as he watched the wound get bigger. The flow of blood increasing until it was running down his arm like a river. His knees grew weak.

A pitiful whimper escaped his lips. 

‘Why aren’t they stopping it?’ He couldn’t talk; black dots crept in around the edges of his eyes before he suddenly toppled off the stool.

“Wha-?”

“Nathan!” 

He woke up to find no pools of blood or be dead. That was a good thing. 

He was propped against the stool, Julie was looking down at him. The tailor staring, trying to figure out exactly what the boy was about to ask. 

“What happened?” He asked, holding a hand to his head.

“You passed out when you got poked by the tailor.” She helped him up. 

“And now I get to finish my job.” The tailor said, picking the scrawny elfling up and setting him on the stool once again. He paled considerably. 

‘Oh no, not again…’ Nathan whimpered.

He glanced over at Julie who was now examining her nails, the previous event forgotten. He felt uncertainty seep into his bones again.

‘No one cares for me here. What’s gonna happen with my life?’ He thought hesitantly.

Some minutes later, the tailor pushed him down and barked at the young boy. 

“Alright, that’s it.” 

Nathan shifted in the clothes and worked any pinches out. He wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but staying any longer in the tailor’s presence was something they both didn’t want. On his way out, he glanced at the full-body mirror. He stopped, captivated; giggling to himself as he stood staring. The reflection wore a navy-blue, skin-tight shirt that covered most of his upper torso. The collar was snug up against his throat; he wormed a finger under it and coughed a little. The shirt was tucked into the pants. Oh yeah! He definitely liked the room he had now. 

He recalled with an almost satisfied giggle how the tailor scrapped his old pair for new ones. The tailor had been muttering the entire time as he made the pair appropriate for Nathan’s scrawny size. He’d miss the familiarity of his old jeans, but welcome the comfort fit. They hugged nice at his hips, didn’t pinch anywhere, and were _black_ with silver threading. He ran a finger along the hem going up his leg with wonder. 

‘Is it real silver?’ 

“What are you still _doing_ here you _brat_? Get _out_!” The tailor snapped, spotting him. He threatened to throw something at him. Nathan yelped and dashed out without looking back.

‘Crazy old man…’ He thought, running a hand though his hair on his way back to the room.

Julie had left before the tailor was done, much to his disappointment. He didn’t like her being there, but having someone to talk to passed the time easier than no one. He ran his hand along the wall as he walked down to his room. Many workers passed by him but only once or twice did someone stare. He figured they were new; unaccustomed to such a young kid being there.

He felt his heart seize as such a conversation reach his ears from around the corner. He stopped before they picked up his presence. 

“Hey, Ephram, I’ve seen a little kid running around, isn’t there a recruit age? What is such a tiny kid doing here? He looks hardly able to pick up a sword, let alone defend himself! How old is he, even? _Eight_?” He felt his spirits from earlier drop like a rock. His shoulders sagged.

“Jeez, Asalee, relax. When you wanted to get me away, I didn’t know it was to assault me with questions. Well, that kid’s Lord Kvar’s son. You’ve been here about a week right? No one’s told you yet? Hm, well, whatever. That scraggy thing is Kvar’s kid.” He felt his heart pound as the silence seemed to echo on the walls.

“His _son?_ He looks nothing like him!” 

“Yeah...well no one’s around that was there when he was born, but apparently his mom was a human and he got all his mother’s genes.”

“Psh, what a ripoff!” Nathan flinched, feeling a stab at his heart. ‘Mama wasn’t bad… she wasn’t!’ 

“Wait, that means he’s...” He felt the question hang in the air heavily, as if Asalee couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah... _A fourth._ ” He felt it would be better to go now, instead of listen more and feel more stabs to his heart. He rounded the corner and walked towards them, plastering a smile on his face. Asalee had her helmet tucked under her arm and long platinum-blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail with a thin strand of leather and draped over her shoulder. Fringe framed her oval face. Nathan admitted to himself, she was quite pretty.

“Hi~” He waved at them; he drank in the startled look on Asalee’s face and the look of... he couldn’t identify that look, but it looked like pity from the male. Ephram had a cocky grin on his face at the sight of Nathan. He had green eyes and with a grimace Nathan realized he mocked him. His smile wavered a moment.

“H-hi...” The woman greeted, still shaken at the sudden appearance of the boy. Her male companion looked at her, as if trying to send the message of ‘the hell are you thinking?’ Nathan shook his head and walked away.

“What the hell was that, Asalee?” He heard the man hiss as he walked away.

“Shut up, Ephram! The kid... he looked lonely.” Asalee said, almost kindly. 

‘No, no, I will not go back.’ He had to set his resolve as they continued talking, the voices fading as he kept walking.

“Oh, so now he looks lonely? He’s _strange_. All he does is lock himself in his room, or stare at people, or work on technology.  The kids a freak!”

“Ephram, shut the hell up.” She scolded, he felt a little happy that she defended him. 

“The kids afraid of blood.” Ephram wouldn’t drop the subject.

“That’s only cause-” Asalee couldn’t come up with an answer. “Maybe he suffered something traumatic when he was smaller...” He couldn’t bear to hear anymore. He returned to his room.

He opened the door and laid his hand on the chair. It was pushed in neatly to the desk in the middle of the small room; the room had white walls and gray tile. There was a regular bed with simple white linens to his right. On the wall in front of him there was a small bookshelf with just a few books on it, there were dates ranging consecutively. He had to stop himself from shaking. He shook his head violently to clear his thoughts.

‘I need to write.’ He sat down and opened the journal to a blank page.

_I'm allowed to roam the place. But I'm restricted from going into several places. Like the basement, or Father's office. I never understood these things, but never once did I disobey. Now I'm actively making prototypes with the other half elves. I spend the days making swords, halberds, all weaponry and armory; while at night I'm always wracking my brain for ideas on new products to help my father and his company to thrive more. I read books in my free time, but I have so little of it. Even so, I am ahead of the others. I keep learning new things that help me with inventing. Which I think Father is really proud of! I'm finally contributing to his work! But what I can’t understand is why Father doesn’t allow me into the Basement, or his office. What is over there that he really doesn’t want me to see? It’s not that big a deal; I just have too much a curiosity that’s all. Til next time._

He sighed and closed the book, sliding it neatly into the shelf. He tucked the pencil into the cup and got up. Pushing the chair in he leaned against the desk, contemplating what to do now.

**~Five years Later~**

_It’s my fifteenth birthday today, and I have realized I'm alone in this world. I've noticed how no one else is like me. My aura is black. Everyone else's is blue, green, and red. Red is a very common color, it's not a good aura either. I can tell by their eyes. It’s burning hate. Or is it desire for the blood they might spill? What is it about? I mean, I don't know what it is but I think I can see into people's souls. Or no. I think it's their mana. I can see their mana. I think I'm different from them. They all have this same shaped of aura. While I feel mine is different. I hate the fact I don't know as much as I should._

_But that only made me realize more that I truly am alone in this world. I took a blood test on my own and learned that I'm not a half elf, nor elf, nor human. I'm the lowest of them all. I'm only a fourth-elf. It made me recall that conversation that - what was her name, Azalia? I don’t remember it was so long ago, it hadn’t hit me then. Like, truly hit me, that I was probably the only fourth-elf they’d ever meet. But they all knew before I did. I have never heard of anything like it. I need to make myself fit in more. I was going to start training. _

_I think Joseph beat me to it, because he had a birthday present for me. I had planned to ask him to make me a sword, one that he thought would fit me, but I think he’d already had it in the works. He just nodded, accepting everything as I told him. It was funny, he’d asked me what_ kind _of blades I wanted, and I didn’t know. I honestly didn’t know what kind of blades I wanted. I gave him the simple answer of ‘dual blades’ and he nodded, giving me a great smile and told me it’d be ready in a couple hours. When he told me it was ready, I pulled it from the sheath and it fell apart in my hands. It just split in two. I thought I’d somehow broken it. He ended up laughing at me so much. I don’t think my face has ever been so red._ ‘ _you_ _asked for Dual Swords’ He told me, and I never heard him laugh so much, it made me feel great. He went on to explain how I was supposed to fight a certain way, (he went on to show me a little how to move too, but I think I’ll forget it pretty fast, it was confusing!) He’s the one person I think I’d consider a friend. **Friend...** it’s such a foreign word to me. But he continued to ask me what I would want with the swords, and I simply told him that I’d have to learn eventually. All the books I’d read with sword fighting, it just gave me the chills thinking that one day I might be able to join the action. His laughter was deep, but sincere as he told me that yes, one day, I did need to learn._

Nathan paused in his writing. As much as today was fun - he glanced at the sheath in the corner, a smile spreading across his face, but it was gone in an instant as more malevolent thoughts invaded his mind.

_I'm a fourth elf… Is that why all the others look at me with confusion and pity? Because they can't sense what I am? Is that why I look so different from the other half elves? But why have I never sensed a human here? Never ever have I met a human. Yet they look at me like I have three heads! I haven't seen a half elf with rounded ears, they are all pointed! Nor have I seen one with black hair, or eyes as icy blue as mine._

_Was my half-elven father in love with my human mother? Is that even possible? From what it sounds like, half elves are despised by humans..._

_She must have been an incredible woman. I wish I could have met her._

_But aside from that, I realize that now, I have so many unanswered questions that my father isn't willing to answer. Like, why are there only half elves here? Why do we make weapons when there's nothing to fight? Why is it that sometimes late at night I can hear screams and get hit with a wave of something I've never sensed before? Something that I’ve only read about, white terror I think. There's something that everyone is hiding from me. And I need to find out what._

Nathan closed his journal and exhaled a deep sigh. He'd written several already, all mostly venting or brooding, but still. Sliding it into the bookcase, he got dressed. Slipping out of his room, he started for the forbidden part of the ranch. 

Nathan had his hand on the wall throughout the whole trek. The lights overhead had dimmed for the night leaving just the little lights along the path guiding his way; to tell the truth, he wasn’t even sure he knew where it was - or where it led. He tried to follow the paths along the turns, so he knew his way back in case he had to flee in a hurry.

A thought occurred to him, why would he need to run? He shook his head.

He realized with a jolt that he was now heading down the main corridor. It divided the ranch. He’d looked at a map many times, but that was different than actually traversing the place without it to guide him. Nathan realized that he’d never been to that side of the ranch. He didn’t even know what was to the left, towards the dreaded side.

' _One look shouldn't kill me…'_  He thought, insecurely as he tiptoed towards the door. Even when his footfalls were soft, he missed the second pair of feet behind him. As he neared it, he could sense increasing horrified, petrified mana. It was so strong, he himself began to feel the effects. Fear. His knees began to shake as his resolve began to melt. 

_'Something bad is going on! But-!'_ Something propelled him forward, the need to know.

‘Why in the hell are people so scar-’

Taking a running step forward, he was about to bolt into the sensors view and open the door, but a hand on his collar, pulling him back caused him to yelp. The yelp was cut short when he was pulled off his feet and onto his back, the air rushed out of his lungs, the yelp ended with a pained gasp. He gazed upwards to the irate look of his father.

All remaining will he had melted in the burning look his father gave him. It wasn’t clear, but being around the man for a good twenty years, he knew his antics. A thin smirk on his face. Nathan almost would have rathered him grabbed him and smacked him around.

"Now, Nathan I wonder where you were heading?" His father inquired, his voice tilting up.

He stiffened, eyes snapping wide. 'Crap, I thought… I swore no one was following me...' He was about to sit up and look into the room when his father placed a foot on his chest, pushing him back down.

"You were going to go to deeper into the ranch weren’t you?" 

Nathan flinched at two things, the hidden icy tone in his father’s voice, and the door began to slide painfully closed. It shut with an audible hiss and Nathan felt empty inside for not getting to see what it was that was behind that door.

‘Goddess dammit all.’ He thought, struggling to breathe with his father’s foot on his chest. At his struggle, his father only began to smirk more. A ping of fright shot through him at the gaze.

"I don’t wish to repeat this incident, return to your quarters this instant." He removed his foot, allowing the teen to inhale deeply. “Should we repeat this; further consequences will be met, am I clear?” Nathan met his gaze for a split second before having to tear his eyes away, visibly trembling at the steely look his father was giving him.

"I-I, yes, father!" Just as he was about to bolt, a vice like grip snagged his elbow. He yelped and looked back at his father. His trembling intensified. He tried to gather his balance, but his father kept him at an awkward angle.

“Resign yourself from calling me _father_.” 

The elfling flinched as Father spat the word. He towered over Nathan and watched his reaction. “B-but I-” Nathan stammered, his legs scrambling again for traction on the floor. If he swore anymore, he’d bleed. He whimpered as he felt his father grip his arm harder.

“Kvar. Don’t call me father again, boy.” The eyes narrowing, the venom in his voice; combined with what happened was too much. Nathan felt the walls start to close in. Kvar released him from the grip and Nathan fell to the ground.

He scrambled up and ran back to his room. In the darkness he fled his father; he almost thought he heard a laugh, a dark chuckle, but it echoed along the wall, becoming malevolent and evil. He didn’t even bother keeping his hand to the wall, somewhere in the back of his mind he knew the way back. 

He saw his room coming, fear closed in on him. Throwing himself into the censors view, the door barely opened in time before he stumbled in and crashed to the floor.

Oh goddess.

Oh goddess, what was that?

He drew himself up, trying to pull himself out of his shaken mind, his shaking hands pressed to his ears. 

Harder.

_Harder._ __

That laugh wouldn’t leave his head for the life of him! He shook his head.

The look in his father’s eyes. He felt sweat begin to build around his bangs. He brought a hand up and while he intended to push them aside, he gripped the damp lock of hair and leaned into his palms, hoping the pain would clear his mind. Something told him to stop around a few minutes into this and begin the more rational ways of calming down. He tried counting to ten.

Somewhere he got lost and when he remembered himself, he was at Eighty-Seven. He chuckled weakly and got up from his place on the floor. He felt a better, but not too much. The looming shadow of his father was...

Portentous.

**~Five years later~**

_It’s my twentieth birthday today. Where I live, everything has been, for lack of a better word, mild. I mean, I never understand why my father is always so harsh sounding, so cold. Perhaps it's because he's in charge of this whole operation? I don't even know what to call this place. They call it a ranch, but I can never hear what_ kind _of ranch through the hushed voices. Ranches usually house things, right? That worries me, honestly. It's nothing I can really describe. But it's immense. For being almost twenty years old, there are some places I've never been to. Like the basement. I will never understand why my father forbids me to go down there. Also, I am absolutely not allowed to go down the hallway to father's office. He told me it'd only make me faint. That night a couple years ago is still fresh in my mind. It was a side I’d never seen of Father, it really scared me._

_Hemophobia; fear of blood._ _That’s what the others say I have. I don't even know when I got to be afraid of the sight of it, something must have happened when I was little, perhaps something I don’t remember. We have sharp equipment here, perhaps I hurt myself badly? Cut an artery perhaps? I don’t have any scars that would have resulted in such a thing. Sigh, I don't know, nor do I care. I know my father's tough, but he just has high standards, which makes me strive even harder to meet them. I remember the time when I made a good armor prototype! That was awesome. He looked so proud. But his emotions were closed off. Like he was hiding something. Something sinister. Gah, shake that thought. He's your dad, that's all there is to it. Can't you be excited about your new journal instead?_

_I'm sorry, I'm forgetting to introduce myself, new journal, my name is Nathan… Nathan Satou. Satou is my mother's maiden name. I find a few things strange about my life, compared to those I've read in books. My father raised me alone, with some help from some other very kind ladies. I never met my mother._

He heard my door open and I was snapped out of his journal writing. The man before him was tall. He had dull silver hair, and slitted black eyes. 'I have noticed he has this superiority complex going on sometimes. Like I'm lesser than him…I hope that's not the case…' He thought, as if that would be what he’d continue to write into the journal later.

"Nathan, you’re needed for repairs. Some computers have malfunctioned." Kvar's hard, rough voice made Nathan shiver a little. But the chance to prove himself to his father mattered far more.

"Yes. Fath-"

Kvar, his father, looked affronted. “Nathan, please, again and again, I tell you, it’s Kvar.” Nathan tried to hide his flinch when the half-elf growled in the back of his throat.

“Yes, Kvar, right away.” He straightened, earning a look of approval before he bolted off.

~End Chapter~

 

**Author's Note:**

> There was a little bit of violence at the beginning, but it's not enough where I think I need to add the warning...  
> Maybe I'll change it as I add more chapters, but I really don't feel it's that bad.  
> ANYWAY, tell me what you think~


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